


In Paris, 1822

by Jean_grantaire



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Canon Era, Ft. basically no plot sorry, Gen, technically pre-canon by about 10 years
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-30
Updated: 2016-12-30
Packaged: 2018-09-13 11:43:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9122071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jean_grantaire/pseuds/Jean_grantaire
Summary: 18-year-olds Grantaire and Bossuet share their first New Years Eve in Paris.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: contains mentions of blood, Grantaire's dubious religious beliefs and general pessimistic outlook (none of the opinions expressed in this work are my own), and a blatant lack of plot.
> 
> The title is an 'In Paris With You' pun, in case anyone was wondering, and I'm unreasonably proud of it.

"Grantaire-"  
"I'm fine. More than that: I have two legs, my heart beats and my humours are in balance. Anna Perenna would give her evening to take my place; the spirits are turned green with envy. God in all his splendour felt moved to dampen my evening, and I refuse him!"   
Though the evening had taken off with a terrific start (the use of the term evening here is generous - they had opened their celebrations around midday), seemingly the whole of Paris serving cheap drinks and cheerful company as the very final day of 1822 drew to a close, it had taken a turn for the disastrous with only an hour to go. This was quite predictable, given their previous record: Grantaire's loud and often cynical words were sometimes poorly-received, and had an unfortunate habit of souring peoples' response to Lesgles' wit and encoding his bad luck. On this particular occasion their evening had ended with Grantaire bent into an uncomfortable position on his back in one of their chairs, his nose blocked with a handkerchief to prevent any more blood dripping onto his clothes.   
"Capital R, your nose is as much a river now as it was twenty minutes ago, we really ought to fetch a doct-"  
"And my Galatea's eyes will run for many an hour more! Cruel fate has ripped her from any saving grace: I am obliged to share her fate. Doctors? Bah! A symbol for the oppression of the poor; a gatekeeping profession to life; a bunch of rich quacks with down quilts and a suspicious admiration for leeches of which I desire no part. Why not run to the nearest pond and fetch me my medic?"  
Lesgles took pride in knowing Grantaire well enough to loosely translate this irritable response as 'I can't afford that, sod off or pay for it yourself'. Unfortunately, he was also familiar enough with Paris' medical students to suspect that he wouldn't manage to drag any of them from their partying half an hour before the new year. Damn.  
"Perhaps a blessed bottle of wine, Bossuet of Meaux, so that I might substitute in the blood of Christ for my own."   
That was, at least, both within their reach and price bracket - the bottle of wine in question had been sat in a cupboard for a good couple of days, and it had only been a few hours earlier that they had agreed it ought to start paying rent if it was to outstay its welcome any further.  
"Monsieur my good friend, your science and convictions are competing to give me the finest bouquet of doubts, plucked fresh this morning by experts of the field."   
"Doubt? Bah! Will you take your fists to me as well, master of the funeral orations? Have I outshone my own estimation of my considerable charm and stolen your mistress without so much as laying eyes on her?"  
"Certainly, if you are her mysterious husband." Lesgles' tone was good-natured despite his words - it was hardly as though this was the first occasion he'd lost a lover in such a manner.   
"Zeus could hardly bear marriage." Grantaire pointed out with a dismissive gesture. "Aphrodite skirted her own duties of love to find more willing beds. What have I to gain? Love is a fool's errand; status hardly worth the heavy collar of expectation; the family name hardly worth pushing forwards. I, become a breadwinner, the head of a household? God himself abandoned his child to a more willing father: I have taken up the Bible and learned well. And what would become of you?"  
"Me?" Bossuet looked quite startled. Realising the implications of his words, Grantaire blushed (a rare sight) and scrambled to clarify them, uncharacteristically embarrassed.   
"Where would you live? Not with us, certainly - I won't stand for you flaunting your freedom whilst I am chained to responsibility and packed off into the great workhouse of fate. Left to your luck you'd be struck down by lightning; left to your fortunes you'd starve. What an endlessly bitter world! The banks are shut, the scholars on holiday for their health whilst beggars eat one another on the streets for a Christmas feast. What dogs! What pigs! I despise mankind. I could not leave you to become a legal eagle nor a vulture: I will not marry for virtue."   
The situation saved (if somewhat clumsily), Lesgles moved to fetch the wine from the kitchen. Grantaire pushed himself more upright, his expression brightening, and then dropping to something quite offended when a minute later he was handed a glass rather than the bottle itself.   
"What of the spirit of sharing? What of my lifeblood? Back, vengeful fiend, with your talk of moderation!"   
This fighting talk rapidly dissolved into grumbling as Grantaire's glass was generously filled, and then a few rare moments of quiet as it was drained again. Then, to spite Lesgles and his glasses, he swiped the bottle from the table and took a drink from that, too.   
The few moments of quiet were interrupted by the sounding of bells from the local church, marking the arrival of midnight and the new year.   
"Time has run off with us!" Lesgles exclaimed. "Quick, a toast!"   
He held out his glass, and after a moment Grantaire lifted his bottle to tap against it.   
"To the new year. To us!"  
"To us!"

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you think!   
> My tumblr is 'jean-grantaire'


End file.
